Once In A Lifetime

Cira's first vision had been a momentous, inconsequential thing. She couldn't remember all that well what had happened, but the vision would always stick with her afterwards. For some reason or another, she had seen a woman she knew with a baby in her arms. Cira had congratulated the woman about the baby, though the woman wasn't even pregnant. It was less than a year before she was though, and that was when the suspicions had started. After her third vision, it had been confirmed. Cira was an Oracle.

By this time, it was a little too late to hide the knowledge well, and so Cira had been placed under protection as it was suspected that soon demons would figure out who the new Oracle was. Cira had still been a child at that point, and young. She didn't understand a lot. When she'd woken up one night to odd noises going on and gone to investigate, she hadn't really known anything was very wrong. She hadn't known anything was very wrong until after she had woken up in Hell for the first time.

Obviously, she'd tried to get back home several times, and was punished each time, with the punishments becoming more severe after each digression. Eventually, she'd had to just get used to the suffocating, oppressive feeling of Hell. She'd had to get used to the demon who called himself Michael, and as she grew up, memories of Heaven became to her more like some fantastical dream she'd had. If not for the fact that she was an angel, she could almost believe that it hadn't been real.

Still, she was usually fine as long as she was quiet and kept to herself, as she learned fairly quickly, and it was pretty much all she did anymore. Especially since she'd stopped having visions a few weeks back.

@ varkatzas.
(Just so you know, since I just thought about this... I think of 'Circa' as pronounced like 'Seer-ah' rather than something like 'Seer-cah' or something like that. I think my way sounds prettier xD)

(Sounds good )

Michael had been punished when it had been nearly three days since the last of Cira's visions, he had been named to be her overseer, of sorts. He was thousands of years old and had been around long enough to know countless Oracles, though he had never been the one to be named an overseer partly because he had never shown any interest in such a thing and partly because an oracle needed to trust their overseer at least partly. The last few had been unsuccessful in their attempt to brainwash and when it had been known that a new Oracle would be born, Michael had decided to step up when Lucifer had spoken to him.

The girl had proven to be particularly difficult because while he had managed to pluck her from her family's home one night, she was still so hopeful that it almost made Michael sick when he thought about it. How could a girl be so full of hope and peace even after being confined to the realm known as Hell for so long? He couldn't ever understand it but then he supposed that was the stupidity of an angel.

It had been the first time in so long that an Oracle was brought down to Hell that when Michael had arrived with the little girl in his arms, Lucifer himself had been surprised by how easy it had been for the demon to do so.

Sighing as he made his way down to where Cira was held, Michael raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment. He said a silent prayer - ha! - before knocking on the door to announce his arrival. Though he didn't wait for an answer in the slightest, Michael opened the door and headed a few steps inside.

"Have you seen anything new as of late?" Michael asked, his eyes roaming over every inch of the room, always suspicious of an attempt for her to try to escape. That and she was alluring - something he was unsure of whether he could ever admit or not. His eyes finally found the girl and raised an eyebrow, awaiting an answer.

Cira hardly reacted to the knock at the door, knowing who it was and what he would want. She needn't bother open the door either, soon proven as he walked in a moment after knocking. Some things simply didn't change, and that was one of those things. Some days, she was surprised that he even bothered knocking at all.

She continued to sit in stillness as he looked about the room, something else that never seemed to change, and it wasn't until his eyes landed on her that she spoke. "I haven't." Cira wasn't even looking at Michael at that point, but staring at some distant point across the room. However, after a few beats, she glanced up at the demon. "Maybe whatever gives me the visions has finally caught up with the rest of me."

Angels weren't exactly built to live in Hell. Cira was almost perpetually sick in some way or another, even though her body had long ago built up a sort of tolerance for her environment. It had been unbearable at first, but she'd attempted escape anyway through that. She had since found out that the attempts were fruitless, and unless she thought she had come up with a particularly clever idea, she didn't bother with the attempt. The punishment that followed otherwise simply wouldn't be worth it.

Michael's body tensed as he looked to the girl, his eyes roaming over her body as she just seemed completely oblivious of his presence. He had grown up with some things mattering more than most and respect was one of them. The fact that Cira never seemed able to look at him bothered him, though he let it go because he wasn't fond of the idea of torturing her into submission over something so simple. There were far bigger things to worry about than whether she looked at him when she spoke or not, if she started to fear him, how was he expected to get answers from her?

When she finished speaking, Michael sneered as he began to close the distance between them. He wanted to reach out and grab her by her hair but he simply stood a bit too close for comfort to her. He shook his head and reached out to run a thumb over her cheek, "You and I both know that you are not going to manage to reason with me to help you out," he said, rolling his eyes at the idea. Sometimes he wondered how she could be so stupid - thinking he would help her leave? Aha. Not about to happen any time soon.

Michael stepped back after a moment, head tilting to the side as he considered his options. He certainly wasn't going to allow her to go to Heaven. A chance of her return was so slim that it was smarter to call it nonexistent instead. Running a hand through his hair, Michael groaned as he looked back up to the ceiling. Sometimes he wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

"Call me if you see anything," he muttered as he turned to leave, intent on finding Lucifer and discussing his ideas with the demon. He was tired of being the one on the receiving end of punishment because the Oracle had not seen anything lately.

While Cira really wasn't afraid of Michael, that didn't mean she wasn't wary of him. In fact, as he stepped close, she suddenly became a little more alert, her entire body going still and stiff as he reached out towards her, and she didn't relax even a fraction until he had stepped back again. While he generally wasn't violent, there had been a few times that she could remember when he had lost his temper. His mood always seemed volatile at best, and though he was probably the one she was least cautious around, that didn't mean a whole lot when it came to Hell and demons.

"You can't keep me here forever..." The words were spoken under her breath, as he was leaving. They were words she'd been thinking for what seemed like forever, and were starting to seem more and more like useless fancies than reality. Wasn't the proof in front of her, after all? No matter how clever her ideas, she was still there -plain and simple. She'd been there for nearly twenty years, and in another twenty years, she would still be there. She knew Michael was old after all.... probably almost as old as Lucifer himself. Any chance she had of outsmarting him was extremely slim.

And then he was gone again, probably to go make some sort of report since she was fairly certain reports on her were made, and Cira was alone in the small room.

After a little while, realizing she was hungry, Cira decided she was hungry and opened the door. As always, she wasn't allowed out while Michael was gone, so she just had to tell a demon whose name she honestly wasn't familiar with what she wanted to eat, and then wait, hoping Michael was back before she needed to use the bathroom. Because it was never fun for anyone when she had to go but no one would let her the ten steps it took to actually get to the bathroom. That was her own fault, caused by something that had happened years ago, but that didn't make it any better.

Michael snapped during his meeting with Lucifer, partly because the devil had point blank laughed in his face at Michael's ideas. Partly because when the first blow ot his body came, he was already pissed off and he was tired of getting shit on. It wasn't his fucking fault that his Oracle was not having visions. It wasn't as if it suited him better for Cira to not have a vision, it was better if she did. And yet, he had to do something to fix this and fuck it. How many times had he fought with Lucifer and defied the man? He'd laughed at the first time someone had mentioned it - Lucifer sending him back to Earth as punishment. Such an awful idea wasn't it?

Michael stormed into the room not five minutes after Cira had told the guard that she was hungry and was silent as he stalked around the room, grabbing a large duffle bag and shoving some of her belongings (okay, most of) into it in no real attempt to be tidy with them. He grunted when she was in his way and nudged her out of his way before deciding that he had grabbed everything that he needed to grab.

"Put shoes on. Now," he spoke, his voice sounding more like an ancient whisper than what he normally used around her. Demons had multiple voices and he normally spoke in a controlled tone around Cira. When you were several millennia old, you learned to control your emotions very well. The ancient voice that he used now very rarely came out, usually only when he was angry. At the end of his rope. And at that very moment, he was.

Tired and angry, Michael finally looked up to the Oracle with narrowed eyes. Various marks clear on his body, Michael sneered a bit. "Now," he growled, Cira wasn't moving fast enough for him.

Cira had been waiting for her lunch -well, she guessed it was lunch- when Michael suddenly stormed into her room. Considering the way he was moving around the room, grabbing at stuff, she decided to get out of the way lest she be bowled over, and that was how she ended up in a corner. Still, even with that, she was pushed out of the way once.

Before she could even ask what in the world was going on, momentarily speechless at the sight of the marks on his body, she was suddenly ordered to put on shoes. Opening her mouth to demand some answers, she didn't receive a chance to speak. So she closed her mouth, frowning at him, and then went to retrieve shoes to put on, except he'd already zipped them up in the bag he had, which she pointed out to him.

Once he'd tossed them to her, she sat down at the edge of the bed and unlaced the tennis shoes and then pulled them on. "What's going on?" she asked as tied the first shoe, glancing up at him through the curtain of her hair. She really wasn't sure how she felt about this recent turn of events, but whatever it was... it definitely didn't seem good. After all, where in the world could they possibly be going?

Well, she wasn't going to argue in any case. She had never bothered to hide her dislike of this place, and if there was a chance of leaving, she wasn't going to fight it. That didn't mean she didn't want to know what was going on though.

"The overlord of Hell, the devil, fucking Satan himself can shove a fucking stick up his ass," Michael snapped in reply, not particularly feeling like telling her anything. At least not yet. And it wasn't particularly that he didn't feel like telling her but more that he didn't feel like talking about it at all because talking about problems wasn't something that any of them were used to. For the most part, demons dealt with their issues by causing issues for other people and yet, he was almost positive that it was a better idea to remove himself from the situation before it became worse with Lucifer.

Michael's grip on Cira's bicep was probably a bit too tight as he stalked through the halls. But he kept his hand on her to show his ownership - he wasn't particularly in the mood for some lesser demon to try and mess with her nor was in the mood to deal with anyone trying to stop them. So he chose to simply glare daggers at anyone who looked like they were even remotely thinking about it.

There were only certain... entrances and exits to and from Hell and here, as he approached one, Michael quickly shoved Cira in front of him. The closer you drew to the entrance, the narrower it grew and quickly enough, they didn't have enough space to walk side by side. He set a hand on the 'doorway' (just a portion of a cave wall), and began to push, gritting his teeth as he watched the doorway open up.

"Go," he muttered, giving her a little shove. Once they were on the other side, Michael pulled a pair of sunglasses on his eyes and a hoodie over his head. Strange looks weren't particularly what they needed to deal with right now. "Keep your head down and stay close. Don't ever stop, not until we're safe," he muttered, his hand on her lower back as they moved through the trees. Well, really, it was a forest but who was there to argue with him?

Michael's eyes roamed everywhere, not taking a moment to focus on any one thing, intent on getting them to their destination in one piece.

The feeling of being out of Hell was one that was pretty unmistakable. To Cira, it was a little like an oppressive darkness being lifted, and it was almost instantly easier to breathe. Still, it felt like nervous anticipation was building up in her, and she couldn't begin to know what to think about this situation. She'd basically been a prisoner of Hell a little over fifteen years, and all attempts to leave had been thwarted. Now, all of a sudden, she had been practically dragged away.

"Why wouldn't we be safe?" she asked Michael as he shoved her forward a little, casting a glance back at him. She figured they were on Earth, considering the place didn't feel or look familiar to her, and she definitely would've known if she'd somehow made it back to Heaven. To her, it seemed like the most likely threat they would face would come from Hell, the place they'd just left, and there was nothing around them in any case. No angels or demons or even humans. She saw the occasional animals, but that was all.

And, unfortunately, she didn't get the chance to stop and appreciate this new place she found herself in... mainly because if she slowed down too much or did something that Michael didn't like, she was either pushed or grabbed by the arm and dragged back to where he wanted her to be. That arm, she was sure, was bruised into the shape of his fingers and would be very sore in a few hours though it didn't actually hurt beyond initial pain at the moment.

Michael did not stop moving through the woods, intent on getting to a safe haven before he even stopped to think about getting comfortable. That was not an option and when Cira decided to ask him the stupidest of stupid questions, he nearlyy did stumble because he was surprised by the question. Less so because of her asking something so willingly and more so because of what it actually dealt with.

Being as old as he was, you didn't get through life without a few safe havens exclusive just for you. He had loyal people on Earth and places that were so protected by magic that there was no finding him unless he wanted to be found. It was just unfortunate that they were so far from one.

"You need to pay more attention to where you put your feet. We still have a long ways to go and you don't need to happen upon anything bad," Michael snapped when she, yet again, wondered off of his intended path. While he wasn't about to tell her the full extent because then she would probably refuse to budge an inch and Michael was in no real shape to carry her over his shoulder for the next several miles.

At some point, Cira just kept expecting them to stop moving. Unused to all the activity, her legs began to burn, her steps slowed, and breathing became heavier. Michael was pretty bad off too, though likely that was largely due to the injuries he still sported. But he kept them both moving without any breaks, and she began to wonder how big the forest was, or if they weren't just going in circles...

But at some point, well after darkness had fallen and they began using a flashlight to see the path they traveled, they finally stopped. Cira didn't have the energy to even consider questioning his command that she stay put, much less actually disobey, and she ended up sinking gratefully to the ground as he went off to do... whatever he was doing. She could see the bobbing of the flashlight's beam, but that was about all.

Cira practically groaned when he came back and somehow dragged herself up. Thankfully, she didn't have to go very far. There suddenly seemed to be a building of sorts that she hadn't noticed before, and she allowed herself to be guided inside.

Michael ignored the pain that he felt because he had been through enough to know that this was not the worst he had ever felt nor would it be the worst he felt in the near future if they didn't reach a safe haven quickly enough. His head was down and at one point even he had slowed but then a familiar marker was spotted and he began to hurry, they were only a few moments out.

Soon enough, he told her to stand still as he rushed into the darkness. Only another minute or so and they would be safe and sound. Then he could tend to his wounds and then Cira could rest. His mind was racing a mile a minute and as he went through the motions, soon enough, a building that looked quite abandoned appeared in front of them.

Glancing back, Michael ushered her over with a wave of his hand. Stepping forward, he opened the door and let her step inside before he shut the door behind them both and just like that, the building disappeared to anyone outsides' eyes. A woman appeared from a room down the hall and she froze when she saw Michael, the colour draining from her face before she rushed forward. She was talking a mile a minute in Italian, and Michael seemed to obey what he was told to do. Bag set down, hoodie pulled from his body and the woman's eyes seemed to widen further, if it was possible.

She ushered him toward a room and Michael told Cira to follow and they soon found themselves in the kitchen with the woman tending to his various ones, muttering under her breathe and shaking her head, not pleased with his appearance. Looking up, Michael frowned at Cira. "You can eat if you'd like," he murmured, assuming that she would be hungry after the events of the past few hours.

Cira, after finding a seat in the kitchen, had laid her head in her arms. Right then, she didn't even really care where they were or who the strange woman was who was fussing about Michael's appearance. "I think I'd rather just sleep," she muttered in response when he mentioned food. She could always just eat when she woke up or something.

With a yawn, she let her eyes close. She sort of wondered what language the woman was speaking, but that thought was lost as she fell asleep right there at the table.

---

When Cira woke up, it was in a bed. She didn't recognize anything about the room, which she noticed as soon as she opened her eyes, and when she remember the day before, she assumed that she was in the same house from yesterday but had apparently been moved sometime after she had fallen asleep, though she didn't know how in the world she had actually gotten there.

Soon, she realized how hungry she was, and she climbed out of the bed, opened the door, and then started walking down an unfamiliar hallway, sort of hoping she would just stumble upon the kitchen if she looked around long enough.

There was loud noise coming from the kitchen when Cira had woken, Michael now wearing a cleaned hoodie and a pair of pants. He was still trying to rest and partly, he knew that he had no hope of doing any sort of work in the near future. With Agnella making breakfast, he was simply seated at the island as he watched the woman move around the kitchen. He looked up when Cira entered the room and he motioned to the stool beside him, "Sit."

Clearing his throat was reason enough for Agnella to pause and look up from her work and for the first time, offer a small smile to Cira. "Ciao," she murmured and Michael let out a small laugh before shaking hsi head, saying something to the woman and quickly, she apologised, but this time in English. "Michael doesn't normally bring others here," she said after a moment, eyeing the young girl up. He hadn't told her anything because he didn't think she particularly needed to know, after all, the old woman may end up having a heart attack if she knew how important Cira was.

"Did you want breakfast, dear?" Agnella spoke again, looking back up to the girl before returning her attention bck to the food that she was in the middle of cooking. Michael was grinning the slightest bit and he shook his head, "I met Agnella nearly sixty years ago, some say that she's a saint," he murmured to her with a stupid grin on his face.

It took Cira a little while -but not too long- to find the kitchen. Once she had gotten close, all she basically had to do was follow her ears and nose. Soon she was sitting on the stool and returned the strange woman's small smile with one of her own. At the mention of breakfast though, her stomach rumbled, and she remembered why she had found the kitchen.

"Oh yeah, that's why I came in here," she hopped up from the stool, eyes searching for the pantry as she did so. Then what Michael had said occurred to her and she cast a dubious look between him and the woman, whose name was apparently Agnella. Anyone who was so comfortable with him was certainly not a saint, and by his grin, she suspected he was likely thinking the same thing.

Michael couldn't help it, not really. When Cira looked at him, he let out a short laugh. That was the downside to being on Earth, he became a little more human and little less demonic. Perhaps that was why he so rarely decided to go up above. Because he hated feeling physical anything. Because it was so disgustingly human that he hated it. Never once had he been a human and he was happy with it that way.

But just like other physical things, Michael now needed to eat to survive. It wasn't that if he didn't eat, he would die but he would grow increasingly weaker and being weak at a time like this was not something that he needed to deal with. Soon enough, Agnella was serving up a plate of hot food to each of them. She sat across from the two of them and began to eat herself, Michael silent as he plowed through his own food. He didn't realise how hungry he was.

"We're staying here until I've healed up then we're moving on," Michael said suddenly and Agnella looked up to protest and he quickly held up his hand to silence her. "I don't want to endanger you any more than I already have. You have been a brilliant host and a brilliant woman but we can't stay here much longer."

Cira had been about to make her own food when a hot plate was set in front of her that smelled good. She thanked Agnella and promptly began to eat. Though she wasn't nearly as bad as Michael, who looked like at any moment, he might just pick the plate up and tip it so all the food just fell into his mouth -and then he would likely eat the plate too- she was close enough. She could honestly say she felt starving.

Still, she was only halfway done when Michael finished and began to talk. The thought of another day like the one before almost did in her newfound appetite, and she desperately hoped that that wouldn't be the case. "What exactly are we running from?" Cira asked in between a mouthful of food, feeling that she had a right to know considering it was her that he was dragging around. Though, even if she had wanted to not be in Hell, it was a little difficult to appreciate the feeling, like there was some ominous weight off her, with what was going on so far.

Michael's eyes shot to Cira and he stared at her for a moment, trying to decide if she had honestly just asked that question or not. Deciding not to ask if she was serious, he simply shrugged his shoulders for a moment. "Things, people that are far worse than I ever was to you," he answered after a moment. He assumed that it was probably a better idea to simply give her a bit of an idea because he also didn't want to let Agnella know the full truth either.

"I will keep in touch with you, of course," Michael began to speak again, this time his words directed to the woman that was hosting them. He was smiling a bit because he wanted to reassure her. He didn't want the old woman to begin panicking at all. "I will keep you updated as I move around, you need not worry."

"I will keep in touch with you, of course," Michael said, his eyes on Agnella. Cira continued to eat, thinking that she had never seen Michael smile so much as he had since they had been in Agnella's presence, and she couldn't help but wonder how the two had met. They seemed pretty close... close enough. "I will keep you updated as I move around, you need not worry." So that meant that they were going to be moving around a lot... she was glad to be away from Hell, but the idea of another day like yesterday really didn't appeal to her.

Cira blinked, finding her fork half raised to her mouth, and frowned at it. She must have been thinking really hard to have just stopped eating for a moment like that. Shaking it off, she brought her food to her mouth, and began to eat. When Michael spoke, she frowned at him. "Umm, Michael... you know you already said that, right?" she asked after he had finished, but before Agnella could reply. There really wasn't any sense in him saying something twice, honestly... they got the point the first time.